Gallery Piece
by Lucifer Rosemaunt
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Mostly angst, but there are happy times. ErikRaoul slash. Rating applicable.
1. i wanna be your love

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Mostly angst, but there are happy times.  
Warning(s): (for the entire fic, not just this chapter) slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 563

A/N: So, there's a fanmix out there for you to download. Don't know about it? Go read about the 12 days of Christmas present in my profile, my blog, or my livejournal account.  
Story note: Erik/Raoul fanmix bonus song fanfiction – Of Montreal's Gallery Piece. Excuse the no caps in the lyrics because I copied it directly from Of Montreal's website and figured why bother changing it. Separated into 16 chapters.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 01 – I wanna be your love

o.o.o.o

_i wanna be your love  
i wanna make you cry  
and sweep you off your feet_

The blade pressed against his throat made Raoul freeze in place. His own sword had been knocked out of his grasp just moments before.

"Leave," Erik ordered.

Raoul's eyes darted towards Christine who stood there frightened and uncertain. She looked more fragile than usual and Raoul couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness. Erik applied more pressure, breaking skin in the process. So focused on that point of contact, Raoul could easily feel blood flowing from the wound. He winced, and though he tried to fight against it, his eyes began to water. Whether it was from pain or the impending death he felt pressing down upon him as he stayed rooted to his spot, he wasn't certain.

Yet, the main thought he had at the moment was how this was obviously a man unaccustomed to repeating himself. Apparently for this situation though, he'd make an exception, for which he was grateful.

"Leave."

The ghost's eyes never left his own; it was intense enough that Raoul momentarily forgot that Christine was even there. Taking a shallow breath, he gave the barest of nods to her, hoping she'd understand.

She hesitated once before leaving, her own tears already streaming down her cheeks. He watched her progress as she took his horse and left them behind in the cemetery. He thought darkly that at least they would not have to travel far to find a place to bury him.

Once Christine was gone, Raoul closed his eyes and waited for death. When the blade of the sword was pulled away, he tensed, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He wasn't brave enough to look where the killing blow would land; he only knew that a gentleman did not die with a sword through his back, a fact he repeatedly reminded himself.

After a few moments of nothing happening though, he hazarded to open his eyes.

The ghost was watching him with, what Raoul could only guess, was amusement.

"You're _not_ going to kill me?" He asked tentatively, as though afraid to put any ideas into the older man's head.

Erik continued to watch him, and only when he began to shift uncomfortably under that gaze did he deign to respond. "Why, pray tell, would I want to kill you?"

Briefly, Raoul wondered if he had struck his head against the mausoleum harder than he'd thought. "Because," he ventured, "Christine?"

The ghost's eyes narrowed at the name and Raoul was glad the world was righting itself.

"I'll make this clear," Erik took a threatening step closer. "I do not like your attentions towards Christine."

Raoul nodded quickly, hands coming up in a defensive manner, lest the man think to raise his sword again. He rather thought that information was obvious. Glancing to his left, he noted that his own sword was far enough that it would take a near miracle to reach it before the ghost killed him.

The exasperated sigh that followed immediately caught his attention; it made him think he had missed something important.

"I do not like your attentions," Erik emphasized, "towards _Christine_."

"Yes," Raoul was quick to agree. He knew that the ghost was interested only in her.

The resulting glare made him pause.

It was only when the ghost reached forward to wipe the blood from his throat almost gently did Raoul's eyes widen in understanding.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 01

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Erik needs to be less subtle. I mean, they were enemies to start with, what else would Raoul think?


	2. i wanna hurt your pride

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 816

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs).  
Story note: I think Erik would have a difficult time adjusting to a relationship, you know, since he's become so accustomed to solitude.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 02 – I wanna hurt your pride

o.o.o.o

_i wanna hurt your pride  
i wanna slap your face  
i wanna paint your nails_

Shivering from the natural chill of the cellar, Raoul huddled into his clothes, his left arm cradled gently against his body. Making sure Erik's back was turned to him, he scanned the area, eagerly trying to take everything in. It wasn't very often that he was allowed here; Erik preferred meeting in Box 5 or parts of the opera house that were generally avoided. He did not mind so much, but sometimes, he wished he didn't have to worry about someone happening upon them. And lately, Erik had simply been too busy to set up any rendezvous at all.

Raoul sighed and watched as Erik rummaged through several drawers that were situated across the room. They were already two months into their relationship, and he hated that he still could not fully understand Erik or his moods. Perhaps he was being too needy in his desire to see him. It had only been two weeks since last they'd seen each other or been alone together and that didn't include the times that the _ghost_ made appearances during rehearsals or the three other times that he'd attempted to come down here.

When Erik finally gathered all the necessary supplied, he deposited the bandages and alcohol on the seat beside him. Raoul acquiescently extended his arm for inspection. The last three visits, which had also ended in injuries, had led to arguments that clearly demonstrated that Erik had no qualms about injuring him further in order to _help_ him. Raoul would contend that Erik _wasn't _stronger than he was; it was that between them, he was the only one mindful of avoiding further injury.

There was less blood this time; that was indeed an improvement. The bruising was quite extensive though, running from his wrist to his shoulder, the worst of which surrounded his now swollen elbow. At least there were no bruises around his neck, though he learned that falling on the candelabra hurt significantly more.

Erik began the familiar process of methodically cleaning each scrape and burn – because there simply had to have been lit candles nearby this time –, testing the extent of damage on his joints, and making sure there were no life-threatening injuries.

He muttered, "I've told you time and again not to disturb me."

Raoul liked to think that beneath the annoyance, he could hear a bit of apology for having done this to him. Again. One of the more disappointing factors of this last encounter was that Raoul had been expecting the attack. He'd even managed to avoid Erik's initial reflexive action, which was the Punjab lasso; he hadn't expected the subsequent attack to his stomach though.

"You may be better than other patrons, but your job lies with the finances, not the arts." Erik chided, the words so familiar to Raoul that he could quote it from memory. Still, they landed much like a physical blow. He knew his main role regarding the opera house was simply to keep them financially sound, and according to Erik, he only managed to do that well rather rarely. "And, it definitely does not lie in the cellars when I'm working," Erik added pointedly.

Another fact that Raoul knew too well now, and though he'd known that before deciding to risk the journey down, he'd thought that ever since Erik had shown him the way, he would be expected to visit. Moreover, he'd hoped that at least one of those times, he would be genuinely welcomed.

If bruises were welcomes, then Raoul would feel at home in the cellars of the opera house.

He scowled, knowing that Erik wouldn't even notice. The man had tunnel vision, and right now his focus was on fixing his arm… so that he could return to his work.

"I said we would visit when I finished with my work." Erik wrapped his elbow a little too tightly; Raoul flexed his fingers just to try to get blood circulating through them again. "Why do you not realize that fops shouldn't put themselves in dangerous situations?"

Raoul was about to retort that it wouldn't be dangerous if he simply stopped attacking him, but Erik didn't bother to spare him a single glance before returning to the organ, already considering his necessary duty to Raoul completed.

Mutely, Raoul watched him go. That was a new way to be dismissed, and despite his initial reaction to such ill-mannered behaviour was to become indignant, he simply clenched his hands and reminded himself that he _had _interrupted Erik's work.

He ignored the bruises on his arm and stared at his neatly bandaged elbow. And, Erik was unaccustomed to showing emotion.

As he was leaving, Raoul resigned himself to the fact that these brief glimpses of concern would be the only signs of affection he would receive.

He immediately thought of Erik's parting rhetorical question. "Avoiding dangerous situations?" That may prove to be impossible now.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 02

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: This reminds me of Lingering Ghosts actually. Erik putting down Raoul and treating him dismissively when it's inconvenient for him is just plain wrong.

Btw, 'I wanna slap your face' brought too many amusing mental images for it to actually physically occur or be mentioned in a story.


	3. i wanna make you scream

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,370

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs) and if it's not, tell me and I'll reupload it.  
Story note: Don't fear for them.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 03 – I wanna make you scream

o.o.o.o

_i wanna make you scream  
i wanna braid your hair  
i wanna kiss your friends_

Raoul knocked on Christine's door a third time before checking his pocket watch. He was on time; he always made sure he was, but Christine – he looked up and down the hallway – perhaps, she was running late from rehearsals. The hallway was empty though and remained that way as the seconds ticked past.

She always did say he didn't have to knock; his visits were a long running tradition between them already. It simply felt improper to barge into a lady's room without warning. Still, she couldbe running late _or_, and Raoul was beginning to lean more towards this possibility, this was some sort of test and she simply refused to respond just so that he would _have _to enter her room without a verbal admittance. He wouldn't put it past her to do something like that.

He waited a little longer, but seeing no other option, he opened the door. Before he even crossed the threshold, he froze, the sight before him arresting not only his movement but all thought processes. A large part of him remained in complete denial to what he was seeing.

Christine was indeed in her room. Kissing Erik.

Raoul didn't wait for them to part. Once he had full faculty of his motor functions, he turned and walked at a speed barely slower than a jog. He didn't want to hear their excuses or apologies or whatever they could possibly offer him at the moment, _if _they would even bother to offer him any of those.

If he'd waited a little longer, he would have seen Erik pull away from a clearly dazed Christine.

Several hallways away, Raoul slowed, almost regretting his decision to leave in the first place. He should've stayed and confronted them. After all, he felt like screaming now and had none at whom to scream. He could have raged properly at them, would have been able to assign blame.

However, he knew he couldn't blame both of them. Christine was innocent. She didn't understand what was between Erik and him; no one knew the particulars of their relationship. And, after seeing that, Raoul wasn't sure he knew either.

The blame fell directly on Erik. There was no mistaking it. The ghost always made sure he had the upper hand; every act and response was scripted to the best of his ability. He had wanted Raoul to see that; he knew of the visits, had heard him knocking. Erik, who always complained that Raoul spent too much time with Christine, who didn't want them to visit too often, who said that Raoul was too concerned with her to be truly faithful, had been the one who'd been unfaithful.

It had always been about Christine, hadn't it? Raoul had just thought Erik was simply prone to jealousy; he hadn't thought that perhaps it might be something more.

He was quite literally jerked from his thoughts when Erik caught up to him. He gripped his arm and wrenched it with more force than was strictly necessary. It whipped Raoul around so that they stood face to face.

Not caring that they were in the middle of the hallway, Raoul shouted, "Has this all been some sort of ruse?"

The very sight of him made him think of all the time they'd spent together, most of them happy, but he forcibly replaced those thoughts with the need to hurt him. He wanted to lash out, to ignore the fact that Erik's grip was bruising his arm or that he would probably be injured in just the attempt. He didn't care. Maybe he wanted to hurt, at least hurt in a way that he could understand. Blood and bruises were uncomplicated.

"How long?" He asked when Erik continued to merely scrutinize him. Raoul didn't have time to think about how atypical this behaviour was. Instead, he thought of Erik's infidelity, a hurt he still couldn't completely grasp, a hurt that sought to suffocate him in its intensity.

What did Erik gain from making Raoul fall in love with him? Why go through all that trouble when he could have simply taken Christine away in the first place? "Do you hate me so much?"

Erik had the presence of mind to look up and down the hall to ensure that no one was near. He didn't answer, simply stood there menacingly, waiting for something.

Raoul clenched his jaw and finally focused on his behaviour at the moment. Usually, they would both be yelling at this point, and though Erik's grip on his arm hurt, it wasn't as bad as it should have been. He wondered if Erik was waiting for Christine or perhaps some other witness before completing his humiliation. _Let them come_ was the only thought running through Raoul's head. He refused to let Erik see how much this hurt. "How long have you been doing this, you traitorous monster?"

At his words, Erik jerked him closer. "It's you who've been unfaithful," he accused. It was barely an accusation, he'd stated it as though it were fact, a fact that Raoul had tried time and again to convince him wasn't true.

"Me?" He shouted incredulously, painfully aware of how loud his voice was compared to the even way Erik had spoken. Still, he continued to yell, "The one unfaithful had his lips on her not five minutes ago."

"You've kissed her before," Erik retorted.

"_Never_," he vehemently asserted, "while we were together." Raoul pried Erik's hand off of him, but he stayed where he was. He no longer had the urge to run; that compulsion had left him as soon as his anger had. In its wake, he simply felt betrayed and foolish for ever believing that he might have actually meant something to Erik. The only thing left to do now was to obtain answers, a way to explain the pain away or wallow in it.

Erik continued to stare at him, as though trying to read his very thoughts. At any other time, Raoul would have been uneasy, thinking that he might have unintentionally done something Erik would warrant as wrong. This time, Raoul would be the over-righteous party; he would be the judge to Erik's actions.

Before he could think of an appropriately scathing remark, Erik seemed to find what he'd been looking for and said, "She refused to admit it." His demeanor did not change, but the tone of voice, the cadence of it shifted away from aggression all too suddenly.

It caught Raoul off guard so much that he could only think to ask, "Refused to admit what?" He held himself as though on a precipice, cautious and ready for the next gale of Erik's temper.

"You know what," he responded dismissively, gesturing vaguely between them. He averted his eyes, a small motion that Raoul caught only because he was certain it _hadn't_ been deliberate. It had been unintentional, and in a world where Erik planned everything and moved with such precision to ensure fate fell in his favor, it was significant. Erik quickly met his eyes again though before saying firmly, unapologetically, "It was the only way I could be certain."

It was then that Raoul realized Erik might truly love him. He'd toyed with the idea before but had always considered Erik's affections as more obsession than love, as though he hadn't had a choice that Raoul was the one he'd wanted. Something had simply caused his attention to shift from Christine to Raoul, leaving him powerless to his own violent passions.

Erik fixed him with a completely remorseless expression, almost daring Raoul to judge him. It wasn't an expression that revealed deeper machinations or the intent to leave him. If Raoul looked hard enough, he would hazard to guess that Erik was relieved.

_Relieved_.

Raoul nearly wanted to cry.

It had been a test, a type of trial by fire, and only in Erik's mind would being unfaithful be a test of _Raoul_'s faithfulness.

His whole body trembled with the effort to control the onslaught of conflicting emotions, floundering in indecision. He grit his teeth and exhaled slowly from his nose. Just as candidly as Erik had spoken, Raoul replied, "I despise you" before walking away.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 03

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: An unresolved ending? Well, what can I tell you? They do get back together, but it takes a while. A long, long while of a lot of fighting and mean things done, but they do stay together (I may or may not explain how/why). Erik and his crazy thought processes.

Score one for Raoul anyway for having the last word.


	4. i wanna make you laugh

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): (for entire series) slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,181

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs), and if it doesn't work, tell me and I'll re-upload. Oh, new posting schedule for me: every other week. We'll see how well it works though.  
Story note: Yes, they are together again without an explanation as to how. By request (thank Kittendragon), that exploration will be written in a one shot whose outline is still being developed. I'm guessing you'll see it in the next next update (4 weeks from now?).

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 04 – i wanna make you laugh

o.o.o.o

_i wanna make you laugh  
i wanna dress the same  
i wanna defend you_

Raoul watched the rehearsals on stage keeping the barest attention on them. More often than not his eyes would be drawn to the sculptures instead. Their frozen and muted expressions were better suited to his mood at the moment over the joie de vivre he currently had the deepest desire to stab out of the performers. He briefly wondered if he'd been spending too much time with Erik for thoughts like that to seem normal. He sighed and sank deeper into the cushioned seat.

"How long have you been here?" A voice from the shadows asked.

Raoul didn't bother to turn his head or answer. He'd rather hoped that Erik would be too busy composing to even realize he was here.

"Why is it that whenever you're in one of these moods, you always choose my box seat to be ornery?" Erik asked conversationally as he sat down in the seat adjacent to his.

Raoul scowled at him. "This place reminds me of you and you so obviously inspire the best reactions in me." The truth was he knew that Box 5 was the most avoided place in the opera house, the one place he was ensured to be left alone, especially by the managers. However, so far, every single time he'd retreated here to sulk, Erik had come and insisted to stay until Raoul explained himself. If that were the case, it seemed the only reason to come here would be that he _wanted_ Erik to speak with him. Which wasn't true at all. Raoul was fine in the current mood he was in.

Giving Erik one more glare, Raoul turned his attention back to the stage. Erik not only appeared unfazed by his response, but he seemed mildly amused. Raoul huffed and Erik moved so that their shoulders were pressed against each other. Refusing to admit he was affected by his proximity, Raoul's stubbornness kept him from moving despite his initial impulse to. Even still, he struggled to not take comfort by his presence; he wasn't in the mood to be cheered

"Raoul," Erik warned.

Raoul felt his eye twitch. That was the tone Erik used before he attempted to force him to do something, like he believed coercion was the answer to everything. Rolling his eyes, he mimicked the tone exaggeratedly, "Erik."

"Raoul," he repeated.

"Erik."

"Raoul." This time Erik's voice was tinged with annoyance.

"Erik," and Raoul almost smiled; it wasn't often that Erik humoured him. It was usually one warning and then the attack. It already pleased him that he'd been given the leeway of that warning – Raoul knew the significance of it; Erik was making a concession for him – but to be further indulged in his self-acknowledged immaturity perhaps made him happier than he should be.

Making sure his frown was still in place, Raoul made a show of reluctance before he explained, "It's the managers. They're being exceptionally unreasonable as of late. Morning and night. They're quite persistent those managers of yours. They're convinced I'm going to create a scandal with some completely fabricated relationship with a baroness." As an afterthought he quickly glanced over, wondering if Erik could possibly believe the same thing. Erik wasn't as angered as he would have thought.

"Why would they think that?" He asked mildly.

Seeing no immediate danger, Raoul stared at the statues again. It was easier to sustain his mood when watching them. Erik did inspire ill-tempered reactions from him, but only occasionally and if he thought of it, more infrequently as of late. Raoul hated to admit that the first reaction he always had when seeing him was pleasure. He would never admit it, but the mere sight of Erik was often enough to make him smile. "I think they _want _a scandal and by planting this idea, they were hoping I'd visit her to clear things up." He shrugged; after all, he'd given no indication whatsoever of being interested in the woman. There was no other explanation.

Erik scoffed. He knew every person with whom Raoul associated himself. There was no one in that particular crowd that had the slightest chance with the Vicomte. "You with a baroness? That's absurd." But, it sounded like something Firmin would plan. Erik had his own plan forming in retaliation and the managers would suffer for trying to manipulate Raoul like that. The only valuable thing garnered from their attempt was that at least now, he knew Raoul wouldn't so easily fall for those deceptions.

"Truly." Seeing Erik lost in thought, Raoul quickly made a half-hearted attempt to distract him. "Is that a new waistcoat? It looks quite dashing on you." Erik in deep thought was always a little dangerous and even more so when dealing with the managers.

He didn't respond, and Raoul resigned himself to cleaning up another incident caused in his name. It was easier to deal with the aftermath than it was to try and dissuade Erik from doing anything though. He knew he shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but being able to complain to someone had been too tempting.

He sighed again and let himself wallow in his misfortunes. He hadn't been lying when he'd said the managers were persistent. He'd threatened them and tried to reason with them, saying those rumours were completely unfounded, but when it came to the opera house and money, they were simply unreasonable.

A sudden movement from Erik caught his attention. The other man had leaned forward as though seeing something. He glanced at Raoul before pointing down towards the stage. "Watch."

Confused, Raoul watched Erik whose whole focus was on the stage. At a scream, he turned to look as well. All eyes turned towards the catwalk. A sandbag dropped near Carlotta, who let out another scream. Upon impact, the bag burst open, sending out a cloud of what looked like powder. Several more sandbags fell in succession and suddenly, it was… snowing, but the color was wrong.

Raoul stood up completely, leaning almost dangerously over the railing just to try to see.

"Sawdust." Erik commented, leaning back in his seat. He smirked.

People were shouting and rushing around in a panic, trying to figure out what else was going to happen. The shouts were suddenly punctuated by someone sneezing, which seemed to cause a chain reaction of everyone sneezing.

"And pepper."

Raoul tried to look at Erik disapprovingly. This was a setback. They would be unable to rehearse. Someone might be allergic or injured; after a shout of "my eyes," it seemed someone already was. They would have to clean up this mess, and there were a myriad of unnecessary actions they had to take now. Still, Raoul had to turn away so that Erik wouldn't see his grin.

At his inattention, Erik pulled him down onto his lap. Someone sneezed quite loudly. Carlotta complained between high-pitched, nasal sneezes. Most of the ballet girls were laughing despite their own similar sneezes. The managers were bemoaning their fate and cursing the opera house loudly. Erik held onto him tightly, and Raoul began to laugh.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 04

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Fluff for you. Of course Erik trying to cheer up Raoul would end with some damage to the opera house.


	5. i wanna squeeze your thighs

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 771

Story note: What was that? Yup, the rating just went up (though honestly not by much, but close enough). There's a phrase in this chapter that doesn't make sense, but I still left it in there.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 05 – I wanna squeeze your thighs

o.o.o.o

_i wanna squeeze your thighs  
i wanna kiss your eyelids  
and corrupt your dreams_

It was odd to think how far they had progressed in their physical relationship. If he had been honest with himself, from the very beginning, Raoul hadn't thought they would get any further than kissing. If they were lucky. In fact, after having seen Erik and Christine kiss, he had been certain physical closeness would be impossible; Erik's very touch had filled him with disgust and loathing for a long while.

All those doubts and past experiences had eventually vanished though, and as he leaned forward, trying to open his mouth further and suck Erik's tongue into his mouth, he didn't know how they managed to stay apart for so long when they could spend all their time doing this. Erik held him tightly enough that it should have been uncomfortable, but it only made Raoul tighten his own grip on the older man. He wasn't so easy to break, and nowadays, he found himself wanting to test those limits. He wanted to see how much he could take, almost as much as he wanted to see how much Erik would give.

He needed the reassurance that Erik was truly in love with him and these shared moments weren't just about how it felt, though that was definitely a part of it. It was about losing control. The abandon with which Erik kissed him was reminiscent of the way the man was with music; that thought alone made Raoul moan into their kiss. It was the tremble in Erik's hands as they swept up his sides and back down, never fully settling for long on one location. It was the breathlessness and reluctance to pull away even when it became necessary. It was the graceless way Erik crushed their mouths together, the imperfection of it all, the jolts of pain that occurred from wayward teeth, too strong nips, blunt nails on unsuspecting skin. It was far from perfect, but it was real. It was them and only then did their damaged existences, the sometimes wrongness between them, their various incompatibilities come together in such discordant harmony.

It didn't just feel right; in his mind, Raoul knew it _was _right. So, it took that much more willpower to convince himself that he needed to pull away. The hand that was tangled in Erik's hair tightened as a warning that he was going to do so. Even when he did, Erik chased him, drawing him so easily into another kiss. Erik's hands ventured further down, trailed over the curve of Raoul's buttocks, teased lower and squeezed the back of his thighs before sliding upwards near the already persistent ache of Raoul's erection.

Raoul grabbed his hands and pushed himself a short distance away. He needed the space in order to think. Breathlessly, he reluctantly said, "Stop. I need to go."

"You said that near half an hour ago." Erik grinned.

Raoul frowned. Erik had been the one to suggest walking him to one of the tunnel exits. He'd simply yet to leave; he tried to look stern even as he accepted the next kiss eagerly. Thankfully, Erik kept it brief.

"Whom does the blame lay for that?"

Erik shrugged. "You're already late," he pulled him into a loose embrace. "Stay longer."

Knowing Erik's usual tactics in keeping him longer, Raoul turned his head so that Erik ended up kissing the corner of his lips instead. That didn't deter him. He kissed Raoul's cheek and worked his way up to kiss his eyelids.

"That's all the more reason to leave," Raoul sighed. "I am late as it is. I must go. Every night it's the same, you must know that." Every night, it was getting harder and harder to leave.

Erik stopped his ministrations.

"You know I hate it that we must part," Raoul admitted, hoping he wouldn't be too angry with him.

Pulling Raoul roughly against him, Erik ground their erections together, garnering a moan from them both. Raoul was tempted to give in then and be further tardy. He tried to pull Erik closer but he pulled away just as abruptly, leaning forward so that naught but their lips touched. Raoul sought to close that distance once more but Erik disallowed it.

"You must go," Erik reasserted.

Raoul wondered if he was being punished for not giving in. Erik didn't seem angry though; his next kiss lingered and Raoul's heart stuttered at the gentle contact. He was about to relent but before he could, Erik was already gone.

Sighing, he braced himself against the nearest wall for a moment to compose himself. He knew he would be having those particular dreams again.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 05

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: But no action? That's simply cruel.

That phrase is of course 'discordant harmony.' In my head, it both makes sense and doesn't. D: It doesn't make sense though.


	6. i wanna crash your car

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,102

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs). Hopefully.  
Story note: Cars... carriages, same thing. :D

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 06 – I wanna crash your car

o.o.o.o

_i wanna crash your car  
i wanna scratch your cheeks  
i wanna make you sick_

Raoul fought the urge to check his pocket watch. It would be rude to the managers who, he had to admit, were genuinely doing their best for the opera house, but since waking this morning with a horrible headache, he found he had little patience for them.

It hardly mattered if he paid attention anyway. For all their efforts, they got very little done in these meetings, necessary as they were. Two weeks of trying to implement the last round of suggestions made by the ghost, and so far, they had yet to agree on any specific action to be taken. That list of suggestions did not even include the repairs that they were accumulating daily, which were also caused by said ghost. Repairs and changes, they were on an endless list that Raoul found himself growing increasingly agitated with.

To make matters worse, as much as this dealt with the ghost, he'd yet to actually _see_ him these past two weeks. Not a single word spoken between them and whenever Raoul endeavored to remedy that, another incident would happen or the managers would intercept him or he'd hear the cries of the ballet corps and have to go assist them. In fact, he had not been able to reply to the few notes he'd gotten from Erik – written words were hardly enough to appease him regardless. He'd fallen asleep at his desk several times already in his efforts to get a response done.

The lack of sleep was taking its toll on him already. His body ached and he was running a fever. He just needed to get through this last meeting before he could truly relax. With the increasing ache of his body, he knew he should go directly home after they were done, but he was already planning a trip to the opera house's cellars. He desperately wanted to see Erik, not only for himself, but also because Erik's notes had progressively gotten shorter and terser before stopping altogether. To say he was worried would be an understatement.

Firmin was in the middle of another tirade that he was only half-listening to about the funds they were wasting on the ghost when the doors burst open, startling all three of them.

"Good Lord, man. Where are your manners?" Andre exclaimed.

The man looked abashed but instead of apologizing, said, "It is most urgent. The Vicomte's carriage." He glanced at Raoul before focusing on the managers. "Well, it was secured, we were certain of that, until it wasn't." He stumbled over his words in his haste to make excuses and still explain. "We aren't even sure what propelled it, but it rather careened into the wall and the damage seemed repairable… until it caught on fire."

The managers shared one look before rushing out to see, disbelieving the man's account. They'd learned that questioning such odd occurrences was counterproductive since they would eventually want to see it for themselves. As they departed, Raoul pretended to follow. Instead, he turned the corner and snuck through a passageway he was glad he remembered. Unlike the managers, he had no problem believing the steward's account.

As the panel slid to the left, the stark change of temperature made him shiver. He briefly touched his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling his elevated temperature. Focusing on his anger helped to drown out the slight headache and leaden feel to his limbs. The trip down had never seemed so long though. When he finally made it to Erik's home, he was dizzy with rage – though he did wonder if he was simply dizzy from illness. It wasn't difficult to locate Erik as several bars of cacophonous notes filled the entire cavern. For some reason, the organ sounded louder than normal, and Raoul took a moment to wonder just how angry Erik was. He hadn't heard this type of music in a long while. More suspicious was the fact that this was the first time Erik had ever destroyed anything that was specifically Raoul's private property.

It still didn't excuse what he'd done.

Coming to a stop across the room, Raoul watched Erik's stooped form over the organ and waited to be acknowledged. He hadn't tried to hide his approach, so Erik was undoubtedly aware of his presence. After all, a burning carriage sent a better message than any note could ever convey. Erik continued playing for several more moments, fingers searching for the most jarring chords that seemed to send spikes of pain through Raoul's skull. Stopping abruptly, Erik turned, ready to yell at him but paused when he saw Raoul sway a bit where he stood.

Raoul blinked rapidly, not understanding why he was having trouble focusing; he couldn't even maintain the level of anger warranted for this particular situation.

Erik abandoned the organ in favour of approaching him. With narrowed his eyes, he noted the unhealthy pallor of Raoul's face and the slightly glazed expression – being able to tell that from the few candles lit spoke volumes.

"Are you quite done with these childish displays?" Raoul scolded. He wondered briefly when Erik had stood up. That was only a small detail though. "Is there something else you want to destroy so that I can have more meetings with the managers?"

"They are necessary changes." Erik pushed aside his small concern for Raoul and accused, "Have you grown tired of me already?"

Scoffing, Raoul retorted. "If that's what you truly think, then perhaps I have." Sadly enough, this was not very different from how Raoul had expected this meeting to go. He'd expected Erik to be angry. He'd expected a confrontation and another argument that ended with one of them leaving. That was how all their arguments went. Whether it was one hour or one day later, they would see each other again and fight some more until one of them backed down. And, Raoul was pleased to say that he wasn't always the one conceding defeat. What he hadn't expected though was feeling progressively worse. The dizziness was definitely not from rage. His vision blurred and he blinked to clear his eyes.

He must've shut them for longer though for when he opened them, Erik was directly in front of him, one hand on his shoulder. The other hand was feeling his forehead.

Raoul shivered again despite the fact that it was almost a relief to feel that cool hand upon him. He said halfheartedly, "I'm still angry with you."

Erik nodded and directed him towards the bedroom. "And you were ignoring me."

Leaning heavily against him, Raoul sighed. "Never willingly."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 06

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: That was short and fluffy. I always make Raoul sick. I'm going to offset that with a sick!Erik fic soon. It seems unfair. Raoul doesn't have that weak a constitution.


	7. i wanna sell you out

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst and fluff apparently.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 838

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (at least I think it is). Check out my profile or blogs.  
Story note: It's kind of short this time. (I'm losing my touch with this whole writing venture.)

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 07 – I wanna sell you out

o.o.o.o

_i wanna sell you out  
want to expose your flaws  
i wanna steal your things_

"Idiots. Don't even know what… I can't believe… really though."

Erik watched Raoul pace. So far, the Vicomte had yet to actually complete a single full sentence, but he hadn't needed to tell Erik what had him so agitated. He was the opera ghost and Raoul's lover; he knew everything that happened to the blond. It probably helped that he was rather intimately aware of the details of his current predicament – moreso than even Raoul himself. The smug satisfaction he felt was well hidden by a mask of feigned concern, an important talent he'd learned to cultivate without his love's knowledge.

Raoul stopped pacing abruptly. He ran a hand through his hair and stated with sincerity, "This has been the most trying week of my life." Taking a deep breath, it looked as though he was attempting to calm himself down. Instead, he let out a frustrated cry before adding, "I simply do not understand." He began to pace once more.

Seeing an opening, Erik offered, "Perhaps it is simply a run of bad luck."

Raoul gave him a grateful smile. He'd been talking nonstop for the last ten minutes and Erik had been patient enough to just let him even though he'd disrupted his afternoon. He suspected that Erik wasn't truly listening to him, but even that would be alright. He knew he wasn't making very much sense. "I wish that were true, but I fear that I may have an enemy amongst my colleagues."

Given the situation, it was the only explanation that made sense, but Erik asked anyway, "Why?"

"The other ventures that I mentioned, well, their owners and managers alluded to having heard…" he looked away, a frown firmly in place, "certain things about me."

"Like?" Erik prompted.

"Well," Raoul delayed, but his anger was quickly being replaced with embarrassment, "that I am difficult to work with and that I am partly to blame for the Opera Populaire having a rather dubious reputation."

Erik looked at him unimpressed. "Aren't those normal rumours made by your competitors?"

"If only that were the case, but they have mentioned specific traits that," Raoul sighed, "that are true, and mistakes that I have made in the past with other businesses. I can't even deny them, only assure that I am no longer that person."

He'd been prone to making impulsive decisions in the past. It was a trait that had not diminished much with age, but he liked to think that none of his current business ventures had suffered because of that.

Honestly, Raoul was not usually so defeatist about these things. Business was simply like that. There would be individuals who believed him and those who wouldn't or at least those who needed his money enough not to care. Except, the negotiations with the previous owners had started out so well, then the man had turned him down with no uncertain terms so harshly and so suddenly that Raoul hadn't known how to react at the time. Then, it _kept_ happening and every flaw, every failing he felt he had had been thrown in his face.

Stopping, he simply sat on the floor. "They must have hired an investigator."

Erik crouched in front of him. "Which one, which business?" It was easy to seem irritated when he saw how low Raoul's head hung. He wouldn't change his mind about what he'd done, but that didn't mean he couldn't make the others suffer as much as Raoul was suffering at the moment. "I'm certain we can _convince_ them otherwise."

"No. No!" Raoul was quick to assure, looking up to see Erik's expression, a mix of teasing and earnestness. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Erik _would_ resort to violence, but Raoul was just pleased that he had asked before racing off to do so. The previous gloom he felt was slowly but surely vanishing under the weight of Erik's unquestioned support.

"Don't do anything," he asserted again and pulled Erik down for a quick kiss. With Erik's face cradled in his hands, Raoul took a moment to simply breathe the same air before kissing him chastely again. Erik could feel his easy smile. Reluctantly releasing him, Raoul pulled away. The peace of the moment was shattered with Raoul hauled them both up to their feet. "Come. Let us not spend our afternoon lingering on such thoughts. I interrupted you."

Erik let himself be dragged to the organ.

"Perhaps you were right from the beginning," Raoul glanced over his shoulder, "I should simply focus on the opera house. Any other business would take me away."

Erik smirked when he was certain Raoul wasn't looking. They both sat on the bench and Erik pretended to consider it for a moment. "I am _certain_ I can persuade the man."

"Erik," Raoul smiled and pulled him closer for another kiss. He waited impatiently for Erik to start playing. Despite the impediment he knew it would be, he leaned a little heavily against Erik's side. "It's quite alright. I am content where I am."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 07

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: I wanted to add something for the 'I wanna steal your things' but this one caught my attention first. And Erik's so manipulative! I don't know if I should feel sorry for Raoul or what. Raoul should have suspected… or maybe he does. Hmm…


	8. i wanna show you off

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst. Humor. Drama. Miscellaneous.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,862

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs). I think so at least.  
Story note: Possessive!Erik? Like we never knew.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 08 – I wanna show you off

o.o.o.o

_i wanna show you off  
i wanna tell you lies  
i wanna write you books_

"Do you not think it is time for you to perform your duty as patron?" Erik broke the companionable silence.

Raoul gave him a sidelong glance. They were currently sitting in the still dark of Box 5, which earlier had been filled with the hushed tones of their conversation about the managers and the expectations they had regarding the performance that was previewing tonight. But, one could talk about the opera house for only so long; they had since lapsed into silence. Sometimes, Raoul appreciated the silence more than the meaningless chatter he was subjected to everyday, and unsurprisingly, Erik not only understood the sentiment but felt the same way.

Frowning at his question, Raoul shrugged. It was a non-committal motion, indicative of the lack of motivation he had to move from his seat any time soon. "Yes?"

He didn't have to see it to know that Erik rolled his eyes at him.

Erik was correct of course. There was a throng of people mingling in the main hall just waiting to be charmed and impressed by the patron of the Opera Populaire. Lately, he found it a little tiresome to be so purposefully polite and charismatic to people who he knew gossiped about him behind his back. He couldn't stand their platitudes and forced laughter, which, now that he had Erik's blunt honesty to compare to, only served to grate on his nerves.

However, he _was _the patron and it was his duty. Ignoring the part of him that dreaded leaving the peace of Box 5, he took a deep breath before standing up. He had yet to take a step when Erik put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Do not forget this." Erik handed him a bound journal.

Smiling apologetically, Raoul felt his face flush before grabbing the book. He held it tightly to himself, saying, "I am sorry." Erik didn't seem to be angry with him. Even still, he felt foolish for nearly leaving the book after having adamantly assured him that he would take the utmost care not to lose it.

After all, it had taken considerable effort on his part simply to find out what Erik had been up to these past few weeks. The older man had holed himself in his home and whenever Raoul visited, there had been the rather evident shuffling of papers being hastily hidden from his sight. It was amusing in the beginning before it became a curiosity, to which no amount of wheedling would convince Erik to share what he was hiding, but ultimately, it became an annoyance. It was only an hour ago that Raoul had finally learned of Erik's new project.

Erik quirked an eyebrow. "Simply carry it with you and I may forgive you."

It was an obvious tease, but Raoul still made a mental note to do exactly that. "I have no doubt it will be wonderful. After all, you write operas so well. I do not doubt this novel will be just as brilliant."

Smirking, Erik gestured vaguely with his hand. "You needn't ply me with praise before you've even had the opportunity to read it. I only ask you do not leave it lying about again."

Clutching the book tighter to himself, Raoul chuckled. "Yes, well, I will not make the same mistake twice. I want you to trust me with your works." And, it was definitely unexpected to have such trust placed in him. Certainly, Erik had played music he'd composed and Raoul had seen the designs, paintings, and countless other brilliant works he had completed, but this was the first time Erik had actually asked for his opinion on an ongoing endeavor.

Moving to stand before him, Erik said with the familiar intensity that made Raoul fall in love with him all over again. "I trust you."

Raoul could not suppress a grin, and when Erik began to fix his cravat, without a second thought, he dutifully lifted his chin to give him space to maneuver.

Seeing his slender neck and smooth skin bared so willingly to him, Erik struggled to control himself from delaying him further. Still, he spent longer than necessary adjusting and readjusting his clothing, knuckles brushing against such tempting skin. Taking a minute step back to indicate he was done was more difficult than he would have expected; considering the fact that Raoul almost never refused any of his advances and just that afternoon they had been rather demonstrative of their affections to each other, he _should _be able to wait until the opera had finished before his control faltered again.

His voice was a little tight when he pronounced, "Now, you are presentable."

Giving him a rueful smile, Raoul pouted, "Shouldn't this be the moment you jealously tell me not to go?"

"Go. Mingle." Erik tried to hide the amusement in his voice. He added in a deadpan, "I shall sit here silently stewing in my jealousy."

Raoul stifled the immature impulse to stick his tongue out and decided to leave with some dignity intact.

Watching him go, Erik couldn't help but wonder why, or rather, how the younger man could have so much faith in him, to bare his throat and share his heart. Despite the hurt and mistakes that still existed between them and would probably never fully disappear, Raoul somehow managed to expect the best of him without the barest of suspicions. He had taken Erik's admittedly dubious behaviour the previous weeks while he was writing that novel in stride and not once had he expected another violation of their relationship.

A long time ago, what felt like lifetimes ago now, Erik would have derided such a trait calling it gullible. In a way, it was, but that quality was more than anything Erik had ever earned and it didn't deserve derision. If ever that trust was broken, it would never be considered Raoul's fault. That kind of trust deserved some type of reciprocation.

He wasn't the type to share his art before it was completed, but this concession was necessary. The book itself wasn't much really. Set overseas, it was an obvious ploy to make the story seem exotic and the plotline was too simple, too obvious. The main character showed hardly any backbone despite his back-story being gruesome, and the heroine simply did what was expected of her without ever truly being part of the main action. The only character Erik had actually gotten attached to in the process of writing was a drunkard who only complained and could do nothing right.

Now that the first draft was in Raoul's hand, Erik couldn't help but wonder just how honest the Vicomte would be with him. He couldn't wait to find out actually. He rather expected Raoul to try to be diplomatic about the problems in the novel, but eventually, he _would _tell Erik it was trite and required more work. That expectation only showed how much things had been changing. They were always changing, and while he usually despised change, he was willing to make an exception for them.

In fact, it was only a recent development that he truly _didn't _mind Raoul mingling before the performances. It was all a matter of perspective and if he were being honest, a bit of planning. After all, the opera was simply a place for the elite to gossip amongst themselves and try to outshine each other. The Vicomte was a necessary part of that ritual, but Raoul had been quite vocal on his thoughts of being forced to participate.

This newfound trust, however, didn't stop him from following Raoul to the main hall shortly after his departure. Vigilance was innate, but beyond that, Erik simply liked watching him. Raoul could play the Vicomte rather flawlessly. It was simply in his nature to be able to smile on cue, but what was truly special about him was that he was able to make the people he spoke with completely enthralled with what he was saying. There was no feigned interest. There was passion and eagerness in his words and even the most arrogant aristocracy could be caught in his thrall. It was little wonder Erik had been caught as well.

It was easy to find him in such a crowded room because Raoul always stood out. But, at times, Erik would only watch the others in the room; it was possibly the only time he gave so many insignificant people such consideration. He would watch their eyes on his Vicomte, and he would be unable to suppress the swell of deep satisfaction. They were jealous: jealous of what they could never be, of what they could never have, and more importantly, of what _he _had.

o.o.o

The sound in the main hall was almost deafening. Clusters of people huddled together laughed and spoke loudly over each other, trying to be the focus of the group. They would furtively glance across the room at the current talk of all of Paris. Some countess had been found in an affair with the son of a pauper. The details had long since been hashed out. However, her story would soon be forgotten.

Five women all handsomely dressed were at their usual position at the edge of the main hall. Their jewelry caught the light boldly, announcing their presence almost as much as their too high laughs and coy glances usually did. At this moment, their voices were pitched low, eyes scanning the room for one person in particular whose story would be the talk of Paris for months.

"Did you hear about the Vicomte?" No one quite knew where the baroness received all her information, but she always had the most interesting tales to share. The cousin's cousin half-removed who lived in the opera house would forever remain unnamed. "They say he's having an illicit affair."

She knew she had the four other women's attentions. They leaned forward eager for more information even while they searched the room for said Vicomte.

"No." The daughter of a third generation mill owner placed a hand daintily at the base of her throat with a gasp.

"Truly," the baroness nodded sagely, "I heard it from a reliable source."

The others shared a look with each other before looking at the baroness expectantly.

"Well?" They nearly said in unison.

"They say he's completely taken with her."

"Who is she?" Another asked impatiently.

"No one's certain," she whispered conspiratorially, "but she does come to the opera. I heard they pass notes to each other using…" She immediately cut herself off.

Raoul distractedly inclined his head with a forced smile at the group of women before heading towards the box seats. If he had planned this correctly, he would be able to stop by Box 5 before having to sit with the managers and entertain some aristocrat with them. The opera was going to begin soon and his duty as patron was now complete. Clutching the book tighter, he couldn't help the genuine smile that graced his features for a brief moment.

All five women watched him walk by entranced by that fleeting look.

The baroness finished distractedly, "… a book."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 08

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Kind of forcing it right? However, it made me laugh thinking that Erik spread rumours just to ensure no one approached Raoul. You wonder what other rumours he spreads.

I did kind of take a shot at Love Never Dies, didn't I? Oops?


	9. i wanna turn you on

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, sex… yeah, sex in this one particularly.  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,428

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs); at least I think so.  
Story note: So, rating change. Rating. Change. Don't tell me you didn't expect it. Not with these lyrics. Oh, Raoul has amazing recovery time! Unrealistic but totally worth suspension of disbelief in this case.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 09 – I wanna turn you on

o.o.o.o

_i wanna turn you on  
i wanna make you cum  
two hundred times a day_

Raoul lay motionless on his side, his chest heaving with effort. Shivering, his body cooled quickly from sweat and the natural chill of Erik's home. He shut his eyes as he tried to regulate his breathing, subconsciously squeezing his thighs together in an attempt to make the pleasure that now only flit lightly through his nerves last a little longer and to ride out the stronger aftershocks that made him shudder.

Although there were blankets at the foot of the bed, Raoul simply didn't have the energy to reach down to get them. He didn't even have enough energy to push the errant strands of hair away, the sweat matting it rather uncomfortably against his face. Not only was it too much effort though, most movements caused the muscles in his back and ass to tense in protest.

A distant part of his mind knew he wanted to clean the aftermath of their coupling off of his body. It was always a little disgusting to wake up and have to clean it then, but he lacked the willpower to move. He hoped Erik's departure had been to retrieve a towel or perhaps a stray shirt, but in order to find out what the older man was doing, he would have to turn around. It wasn't fair that he felt so drained and Erik only seemed rejuvenated after sex.

The bed shifted and Raoul almost didn't care that he was still dirty. Erik laid directly against his back with as much as their bodies pressed together, and it was enough heat for him to be able to contemplate taking a nap. He could regret about agreeing for that second round when he woke up later. In his defense, he'd been unable to deny Erik's request.

Generally, it was near impossible to outright deny Erik anything he truly wanted. He wasn't the type of person who accepted no as an answer. So, when a hand snuck under Raoul's arm to gently, almost reverently, caress his chest before sliding down his abdomen, Raoul caught it, hoping he could discourage the very idea of more sex from forming in Erik's mind in the first place.

"I'm," Raoul tried to think of a different excuse than tired because that would only be an opening for Erik to start teasing him again. So, he settled for the other reason he wanted to rest, "still a little sensitive." That was perhaps an understatement. The thought of Erik entering made him cringe; he wouldn't be able to walk properly for days much less sit. He was already bruised.

Erik was not deterred though. He pried Raoul's hands away, holding them with one of his own. Raoul's efforts at freeing himself were admittedly half-hearted, but Erik always managed to surprise him with the amount of strength he had. Only on a very good day could Raoul free himself when Erik was in one of his moods. Limbs tingling from a mix of adrenaline, fatigue, and post-coital bliss was not a situation that boded well for his chances of freeing his hands any time soon.

When Erik's other hand brushed against his penis, Raoul jerked away with a sharp intake of breath. "Erik. That…" He definitely hadn't taken into account just how sensitive he would be there. It made sense though; he didn't know how many times he'd come already.

Still, Erik persisted, and with Raoul basically trapped in his embrace, he could do whatever he pleased. He grabbed him firmly and Raoul cursed under his breath.

"Erik, I'm not…" he squirmed when Erik began moving his hand. The kisses pressed against the back of his neck and shoulders, on his cheek, anywhere that Erik could reach didn't distract from the spiking pain that brought tears to his eyes. He kicked futilely, not finding enough purchase on the bed to leverage Erik off him. In his efforts to get away, he pushed backwards and came into contact with Erik's groin.

"You aren't even… ah!" He cried out when Erik squeezed, pressing a kiss right below his ear.

He couldn't contain the whimper that came out. For long torturous moments, Raoul could only mumble incoherent protestations and gasp as Erik continued his cruel treatment. However, his body gradually became accustomed to Erik's touch. It still hurt. Raoul couldn't help the way his legs jerked when he squeezed too tightly, but a slight undercurrent of pleasure steadily pulsed with every heartbeat that loudly thudded through his ears. He hadn't thought it possible to respond so soon after coming so much, but sure enough, he was half hard in Erik's hand despite the amount of attention he gave to suppressing the pain.

Apparently, not pleased with their current state, Erik released him and pushed Raoul onto his back before shifting downwards. He licked his lips, and seeing Raoul's eyes widen, he grinned wickedly.

Raoul put his hands on Erik's shoulders, stopping him from moving closer. "You don't have to."

"I know." The look Erik gave him obviously said, 'as though you could make me do something I didn't want to.' He moved towards Raoul's groin again, but Raoul held him back.

Eyes glancing down towards Erik's rather obvious lack of erection, he said, "You're not…"

"I'm not young, Raoul," Erik scoffed. He didn't quite know however, how to voice the fact that the part he most enjoyed during sexual intercourse with Raoul was watching the younger man's reactions. In his life, he'd controlled a man's very life and death; he'd made people's voices soar; he'd had an entire opera house cower beneath him; but the thrill, the power of it was nothing compared to having Raoul fall completely apart in his hands. It was _his_ ministrations that pulled forth both obscenities and obscene moans from kiss-swollen lips. His touch made Raoul squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure, his body jerk uncontrollably. His kiss made him squirm and arch against him. Raoul was helpless, trusting him implicitly during such a moment of weakness, and it was only during intimacies that he could ever make Raoul beg him for anything.

His reactions, the heated flesh so pliant beneath his hands, and the give of his body drove Erik to the brink of insanity, crazy with desire, and the only thing keeping him sane was more of it.

"There is nothing I want right now other than to feel you in my mouth."

With a groan, Raoul covered his eyes with an arm. No doubting it, he was fully erect.

He sucked in a breath when his arousal was enveloped in moist heat. Knowing that the mere sight of what Erik was doing to him would make him come, he kept his eyes shut; even that almost drove him to completion as the only thing he could focus on was the feel of Erik's mouth. He couldn't prevent his hips from bucking and though Erik usually stopped him with a firm grasp on his hips, there was no restraint this time. Raoul bit his fist in an effort to not cry out as his erection met more resistance. A strangled groan escaped though. He quickly withdrew but Erik followed him and his erection hit the back of his throat. There was no way he could stop himself from grinding into such exquisite tightness, the sensitivity of his penis and the relentless pain only serving to enhance his pleasure.

Erik pulled back to take a necessary breath, and for the first time, Raoul snuck a peek just in time to see Erik lave the head of his penis with his tongue and Raoul nearly came from that sight alone. He quickly averted his eyes, but Erik sucked none-too-gently before nearly swallowing him whole once more and before Raoul could even form a coherent thought, he cried out and came. His orgasm forcibly ripped from him, he was left dizzy and breathless in its wake.

He shivered as Erik withdrew, but responded immediately when he moved up to kiss him. Body still thrumming with pleasure, he grew heady from the kiss alone, the feel of Erik warm against him, the calloused hands so uncommonly gentle against his arms and face. Relaxing by increments, he knew he would be content to lazily kiss Erik the rest of the night if he could.

Erik looked smug when he pulled away. H'm-ing to himself for a moment, he gave Raoul a chaste kiss on the lips. Lingering close enough for their breaths to mingle, he pushed Raoul's hair away from his face.

"I want to make you come again."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 09

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: I guess all I can say is thank goodness for euphemisms. I generally try to avoid those harsh sexual words. I don't succeed all of the time, that's for certain. TMI much though for some of this, but hey, I live to make you uncomfortable apparently.

Poor Raoul?


	10. i wanna dry your tears

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 978

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs). I think it is.  
Story note: Short chapter. After that last one, I can't even hope to compete, right?

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 10 – I wanna dry your tears

o.o.o.o

_i wanna dry your tears  
every time you're sad  
i wanna be your what's happening  
i wanna be your only friend_

Raoul appeared in the peripherals of his vision silently, more silently than Erik had ever seen him be. However, it was more than simply stealth. The Vicomte had gotten quite accustomed to moving without the fanfare that had once accompanied his entrances, but this was different. It was as though his very vitality had been muted and subdued. The light that he brought along with him had been shrouded. Erik would have missed his presence completely had it not been for the fact that he'd explicitly been waiting for his return.

Placing down the book, he gave up the pretense of being able to focus on anything else. Raoul was still dressed in his funeral attire. His hair was tied back, face properly frozen in a somber expression that looked as fake and forced as if he had been smiling at the moment. It was _appropriately_ grave without actually showing any true emotion. A bit of white peeked from beneath both deep onyx vest and dresscoat. Black never truly suited Raoul and even now, though it matched his mood, Erik would have preferred him to mourn in something else. Regardless, despite the change in both appearance and behaviour, despite the fact that Raoul should have managed to erase any sense of individuality about him in such drab attire, he was simply striking.

Erik remained in his seat, watching Raoul linger at the entrance of the room only because he did not know how to comfort. He did not know how to even begin. The younger man's eyes were unfocused and his right hand worried the hem of his left sleeve. The mask of grief had yet to fall, and Erik knew that meant he had yet to truly mourn. The fact was that Erik was unable to understand why it was so difficult. People died all the time and the man that Raoul was mourning could not have been an integral part of his life since Erik had never once heard of him before the funeral announcement and the subsequent invitation that had been made. Raoul rarely saw him and with him dead that would simply return them to the status quo.

Standing up, Erik ordered, "Don't just stand there, looking lost. Come here."

Raoul looked at him gratefully, eyes wide, and the expression only made Erik realize just how unsettling seeing him emotionless had been. There was still a moment of indecision before Raoul strode quickly across the room and rather unexpectedly clung to Erik in a desperate hug. Erik didn't question it, simply wrapped his arms around him and held him tighter. If holding him was all that he needed, then Erik was more than a little relieved because he could easily do that. That didn't require words, platitudes, or generalities about life and death.

Raoul buried his face into Erik's shoulder but no tears came forth. It hardly mattered, Erik had seen the mask fall and it was enough to know that Raoul wasn't trying to be strong any longer. He'd already looked too overwrought, to close to losing it completely and hurting himself in the process of holding everything in.

They stood like that with Raoul fisting the material of the back his shirt tightly and Erik would have been content to simply hold him until he either pulled away or fell asleep. Either would have been amenable. Still, he couldn't help but wonder why Raoul suffered so. Perhaps he'd been incorrect in his assumption that this man had not been important to him. It inevitably made him wonder how Raoul would act if _he_ were to die. Would it be worse than it was now? He hoped that it would be.

"Were you quite close?"

An almost imperceptible nod was his only response, and it was the question that started his tears. It was unmistakable since Erik could clearly feel Raoul's stomach jerk with every sharp intake of breath. He reached up to place a hand on the nape of Raoul's neck. Turning slightly, he pressed his lips into Raoul's hair.

That man was important enough to wound Raoul with his death. Erik felt his jaw clench at the thought. There was no way he could stop himself from feeling some dark gladness at his death. There was now one less person with whom he had to share Raoul. He waited in anticipation for the others from Raoul's past who would soon pass as well, and Erik knew that every time Raoul suffered through their funerals, he would be there to hold him through the pain. He would not only be given a reason to take care of him – Raoul was too stubborn to allow Erik to truly care for him unless he was sick or, as he'd discovered, if someone had died. More of Raoul would be his, and he hadn't realized until now just how much he _didn't _have.

Raoul sniffled and Erik pulled back far enough to see his face. Raoul's sadness was not beautiful, not with his skin splotchy, eyes red, nose running, and face twisted in a grimace as he tried to stem the worst of his tears. Still, Erik couldn't look away. He wanted this of Raoul as well, wanted this all to himself.

As he began to wipe the tears away, Raoul caught his hand. He sniffled once more before saying, "Thank you."

Erik allowed him a small smile and gathered him close again, fitting Raoul against him. "Don't worry." Erik had long since stopped wanting to see Raoul truly suffer. He found it made him ache similarly and that curiosity had not gone away. However, he did want Raoul to depend on him this much. He did want Raoul to come to only him no matter the situation, especially in his sadness. If he could, he would erase everyone from Raoul's past. "I'm still here."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 10

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Aww, possessive!Erik meets caring!Erik.


	11. i only go all the way

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means)  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,349

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs). Hopefully. I might not have checked in a while.  
Story note: This could've gone a different direction, but it didn't. :D And special chapter type… two parts I believe.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 11 – I only go all the way

o.o.o.o

_i only go all the way,  
this time i'm not pretending,  
i can't take the trash  
your trashy friends are spreading about us,  
they've got like V.D. personalities,  
oh __girl__ (boy) they're so messed up_

Erik tried to make Raoul move from the doorway with a single glare. "You cannot stop me this time." Truthfully, _very little_ could stop him from charging out and carrying out his hastily thought out plan to sneak into Christine's room and do what he should have done from the very beginning. Unfortunately, Raoul was high on that list of deterrents.

Raoul knew it, too.

"She didn't mean to," the younger man insisted. He had refused to let him leave five minutes ago when Erik had nearly bowled him over in his haste to go to the opera house, and he refused to let Erik go now that he was calmer. The thought of letting him do something Raoul was almost certain he would regret afterwards steeled his resolve.

"You mean to tell me" Erik laughed – it was a harsh sound, mostly bark and exhalation over actual laughter, "that upon learning of our relationship she 'did not mean to' say malicious things about the both of us." He quirked an eyebrow at Raoul before beginning to pace.

Biting his lower lip, Raoul shrugged helplessly, "She-"

"To _Carlotta_," he spat out her name like the curse he believed her to be, "who is the worst gossip in the theatre?"

Looking away, Raoul desperately tried to reason exactly what Christine might have been thinking, but just like all the other times he'd tried, he failed. Nothing that would absolve her of being malicious came to mind.

The rumours concerning Erik and him were quite pervasive, having seemingly sprung up just over night. In the span of simply two days, the whole of Paris had not only heard about their relationship but had formed an opinion of it. He was almost certain all of France knew about them, and while he tried to convince himself that it was the normal gossip he'd experienced before, it simply wasn't. They were personal attacks, insults blended with truth – too much truth to be passing speculation.

The facts had informed them as to whom the only source of such truth tinged lies could have come. Raoul had confronted Christine as soon as he'd figured it out, managing to beat Erik simply because he'd experienced the force of the rumours first. She had been lucky that no one bothered to pretend any sense of propriety and spoke rather loudly about it despite his presence.

In her defense, she had apologized profusely to him – albeit only after Raoul had cornered her and after she'd feigned ignorance those first few moments. More importantly though, no one truly believed the rumours, as damning and detailed as they were. Everyone who mattered took 'relationship' to mean he was merely being manipulated, a belief that in itself wasn't new. No true harm had been done, except perhaps how Raoul viewed her now and also perhaps her own safety if he failed to keep Erik away from her.

Erik stopped in front of him. The previous fury so clear in the curl of his lip and furrowed brow was replaced by a grave expression. "I will not stand for this."

That change was what made Raoul relax a fraction. He knew when Erik was calm he was often more dangerous, a subtle menace, than when he was blind with anger. Erik was more unpredictable in this state, but sometimes, _sometimes_ Raoul could talk him out of his plans. Erik would at least pretend to listen. "Killing will only create more problems." And Raoul was a little sad that this was the only true effective argument he had. Self-preservation was quite low on Erik's list, but for him, for _them_, the opera ghost would at least take a moment's consideration.

"When rumours start about the ghost," Erik looked unmoved, "they expect retaliation. It would be odd if I do not."

Raoul hated when Erik had the presence of mind to make such valid points. "You've already denounced those rumours." He'd certainly been surprised to learn that the managers had received a note voicing the OG's displeasure at being connected with that, to paraphrase quite nicely, poor excuse of a patron.

Erik had heard _of_ the rumours the first day they had spread – he _was _the opera ghost and it was without a doubt that the rumours had started in the opera house – and as was course, he had sent a note thinking it was simply another stagehand who had caught sight of them. It wasn't until the next day that he heard the precise content and unfortunately, Raoul had been there to stop him from reacting properly.

Erik brushed his thumb across the frown marring Raoul's expression. When Raoul turned away from him, Erik couldn't stop his jaw from clenching. He was definitely going to kill her. "Even now, you doubt me?"

Raoul turned his eyes downward but didn't try to shy away from Erik's touch. He was overreacting; he knew it. In fact, he was uncertain why those words had stung when he'd heard it. Erik loved him, but his love had always been different. It not only manifested itself differently, but it differed in depth and content. Erik loved with different rules; that much was obvious. Even after all this time, Raoul still wished he knew what those rules were.

"Do you not know me even now?" Erik asked, and Raoul felt like apologizing for the fear and doubt that had long ago nestled within him when Erik had first confessed in the cemetery, that had coiled tightly around his heart when Erik had kissed Christine, and whose grip lessened only by mere fractions with each month and year that passed with Erik's continued fidelity. It had reached a point where Raoul was almost certain he no longer worried about Erik leaving him, but every now and then, it would creep up on him, test his confidence in their mutual affection. And, he hated himself for that, but he wouldn't deny that he still worried, that he still hurt.

Raoul's silence wasn't new, but that only made the sting worse. Erik grabbed his arms, holding him in place. It had the intended effect of forcing Raoul to look up at him. "You may think some part of me is reserved for her, has kept a piece of the past, or that I might be waiting for anyone else. Such a thing is impossible." Erik's voice dropped. "It had been decided long before I'd even known I'd wanted you. I love you. There's not a single part of me that knows how to do otherwise."

Raoul exhaled sharply. It was declarations like that that made him wonder how he could possibly doubt Erik. How could he believe that type of passion could be false? The fact was that Raoul didn't believe it was false. He could understand his own emotions almost as well as he could predict Erik's plans, which wasn't very much.

He couldn't help but protest weakly, "But… Christine."

Erik released him, and Raoul almost felt bereft of the firm anchor to the moment, to his declaration of love. Erik didn't move away though, simply ran a hand over his face in annoyance. "I should not have let you visit her so often. She has infected you with her own insecurities."

"You haven't helped very much," Raoul retorted and immediately wished he hadn't given into the knee-jerk reaction.

Scowling, Erik took a steadying breath. It was an old enough argument, a deep enough hurt that it could not be so easily forgotten even though it was at that moment that Erik had confirmed Raoul's devotion and Raoul had realized the depth of Erik's feelings towards him. It was an argument that would never find a resolution, no matter how much he tried. Yet, try he continued to do.

"I have never betrayed you."

Raoul didn't have the energy to start that argument up again. Instead, he returned to the topic at hand. "She truly didn't mean to."

Erik scrutinized him for a moment, wondering if Raoul truly believed his statement. Sighing, he replied, "She is not as kind as you believe."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 11

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Argument to be continued in the next chapter.


	12. you see that sculpture on the hill?

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,986

A/N: I think the fanmix is still available for download (check out my profile or blogs). If it's not, just ask me and I'll upload it again.  
Story note: Continued from the previous chapter (as most stories work ;D).

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 12 – You see that sculpture on the hill?

o.o.o.o

_you see that sculpture on the hill? (roof)  
that's where she queered me out, forever  
they're monitoring my subconscious massacres i know,  
bringing it closer to the surface so it's easily pervertible_

It was a surprise when Erik reached for his hand in a non-violent manner. His actions often demonstrated his emotions better than his expressions or tone of voice. However, when Erik started to walk towards the main opera house again, Raoul staunchly refused to move.

Erik stopped as well, fighting against the urge to simply drag him along. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Raoul couldn't be sure this wasn't some sort of ruse to get him to lower his guard.

Erik squeezed his hand and pointedly pulled out the hidden lasso Raoul had known he'd had before dropping it to the floor. "Trust me."

Raoul half-heartedly glared at him – as though he could say no to that. Well, he _could_, but despite the fear and doubts, Raoul _did _trust Erik. He trusted him enough to know that any betrayal would still be a surprise and it would be his own fault for not protecting himself better. So, he let Erik lead him through the passageways, and they climbed ever higher.

Through it all, Erik kept a firm hold on his hand. Raoul barely paid attention to the path they were taking; he was so intent on that connection they shared. It seemed so simple sometimes. All you had to do was reach out and hold the hand of the person you cared about to bridge the distance that inevitably existed between two people. All he had to do was clasp Erik's hand and their past, the deceit, the uncertainty, and all of the hurt from the past could never come between them again. All he had to do was never let go.

He shut his eyes in a wince when they exited the darkness of the tunnels into the afternoon sun as it shone on the roof of the Opera Populaire. "Erik?"

"There is something you have not understood. And I am to blame for that," he sounded distant, and Raoul wanted to hold his hand tighter. But, Erik let go of his hand then, and Raoul was forced to watch him walk slowly but purposefully away from him. He clenched his suddenly empty hand. No, Erik was not walking away from him; he was only walking to the angel statue standing prominently in the corner.

Raoul didn't have many good memories of this place. They should have been good memories; after all, he'd proposed to Christine and she had agreed. Even more than a year later though, he couldn't help but ache, a phantom pain for a long since healed wound. It wasn't as though he was not pleased with how his life, their lives, had changed. He loved Erik enough that his love for Christine actually paled in comparison, but it did not stop the memories from rising, the memories of a time when his life had fallen apart at the seams and he'd been unable to do anything but watch it happen.

Staring at the unfeeling angel, Erik was not quite certain where or how to begin. There was a reason he never spoke of this to Raoul. He was not certain the proper words existed to verbalize what he needed to explain. "Christine _is _able of manipulation."

"She was mad," Raoul was quick to defend. He had to raise his voice to make certain Erik could hear him, so he moved closer before adding softer, "and hurt." He had unintentionally hurt her again, and Raoul had long ago made the promise to himself that he wouldn't. So if anything, he was to blame for the rumours that had spread. It had been his decision after all, for selfish reasons, that she had needed to know about them. He should have never told her. He could barely even remember how he'd convinced himself that it was a good idea to begin with. All he remembered now was the tears.

She'd had suspicions. How could she not after the kissing debacle? But, Raoul had been adamantly against confirming or denying anything. He was rather adept at guiding the conversation away from such topics, and he was certain she hadn't really wanted to know. They barely spoke to each other anymore, could only be loosely considered friends. Raoul was ashamed to admit that it was he who had created that distance.

_That's_ what it had been. Raoul had wanted them to be closer. Nostalgia for Little Lotte and dark stories of the North, nostalgia for the closeness of that type of friendship had spurred him onward.

He'd been babbling and hinting about their relationship while Christine had frowned; then, there had been that moment when he'd said the rather blunt words of 'Erik and I are in love' before the tears had started. Yes, the hurt was his fault. Her subsequent actions had only stemmed from that.

Erik tensed, his gaze shifted immediately from the angel statue to him. "She has no claim on me or you, Raoul. There is no reason for her to be hurt."

"She loved you," Raoul said, confused. "How could she not be hurt? If I hadn't come, then you both would have…"

Erik laughed. It wasn't mocking; rather, it sounded akin to fond exasperation. He pulled Raoul in for a quick hug and when he was released, Erik made certain they were still close.

Raoul had a feeling he was being patronized. "What?"

"Our relationship had been complicated long before you came to be my patron." At Raoul's disbelieving silence, Erik continued slowly, trying to put to words a concept he never truly let himself ponder. "Before you, it had been easier, certainly. It had been easier for her to believe and for me to do the same."

"Believe what?" Raoul asked, wondering if he should pull away long enough to properly look at him. Erik still had a habit of holding him close; it had taken a while before Raoul had realized it was because Erik, in some way, still felt uncomfortable when he saw his face.

"After you," Erik stated, words struggling to come out, "what was between us was forced to be concrete." He focused on the angel statue again, lost in memories he hadn't revisited in such a long time. "The less abstract our relationship became, the more difficult it became to understand." He gained momentum because now it was so clear to him. It was clear just how perverted their relationship had been. "Angel, tutor, friend, father. At times all, at times none. And after I'd taken her, it was further complicated." He shook his head then, glancing down at the blond in his arms. "Your engagement. There while I hid behind the angel…"

And this time, Raoul turned his attention to the statue. He'd learned that Erik had been there and it hadn't been a revelation. The ghost was everywhere in the opera house; the roof was hardly exempt.

"You were bound to love her, of course. The ease with which she could dismiss what we had, however, only highlighted what little hope there was for us."

Raoul frowned, feeling for him – hurt for the pain he'd inadvertently caused again. However, he was still a little doubtful of her culpability. "She was confused."

"Confused and engaged rather negate each other," Erik replied dryly. The anger had gone away. How could he remain angry when he had Raoul and he knew that he and Christine would have never truly worked? He could not help the bitterness though. Looking away from Raoul so that the younger man would not think the emotion was directed at him, he added, "You cannot be confused and so wholeheartedly commit yourself to another relationship."

Raoul cradled Erik's face in his hands so that he wouldn't be able to look away, "I…"

Erik placed his hands atop Raoul's before turning to place a kiss on each palm. He shook his head to quiet Raoul. "And after your engagement, she still wavered, trying to return to the abstract after she'd finally set the true distance between us. I drew her to me almost as easily as she drew me. And she did," Erik asserted, making certain that Raoul understood, "She knew I needed her and it was an easy thing for her to use that weakness against me. So, she let herself be drawn, let herself believe the lies to get closer even though she knew in the end she would return to you. She wanted to have us both. She is selfish to want us both and yet not be able to give herself completely."

The inadequacy of his discourse frustrated him. How could he put into words his own weakness? How could he tell Raoul that until the moment he swore revenge upon them both, he'd still loved her? There had always been a certain amount of pain in the chase. It had hurt to want her, but she'd wanted his attention, needed him as much as he'd needed her, and that had been enough at the time. It had been enough to be equally broken, thinking that in some way they could heal each other.

"She is no saint," Erik ended, hoping that Raoul would understand what remained unspoken.

Raoul tried to let all that information sink in. Could Christine truly be that manipulative? He rather hoped that she had not meant to hurt Erik the way she did, but he remembered the way she spoke of the opera ghost back then. He remembered the times she practically offered herself to the ghost, almost declaring reciprocating affection in the same breath that she cursed him, and it was difficult to explain it all away.

The expression on Erik's face was so unguarded and vulnerable that Raoul wished they had never started this conversation to begin with. They had an unspoken agreement to not speak of the past. There was little it held that they wanted to experience again, but here Erik was willingly sharing it, reliving it. There could be no lies in his account, and Raoul refused to let that effort go to waste. He needed to stop defending her. He _would _stop because doing so was at the expense of the man before him now. Whatever her motivations, whatever pain she was experiencing now that the truth of their relationship was made clear, the fact was that she had sought to hurt them in return. Her words and actions had harmed them both and she'd not only tried to hide her fault from them, but had also failed to make recompense for her acts.

"All right." Even as Raoul stepped back in order to better look Erik in the face, he made sure to take hold of one of Erik's hands, entwining their fingers together, grasping it with every intent to never let go.

Erik glanced at their hands. "All right?"

"I will stop defending her actions." Raoul lifted his head, voice firm. "She…" He shook his head, uncertain as to how to finish that sentence.

Erik smirked triumphantly, though he was mostly just relieved that Raoul understood. "She is not worth your pity."

"You _have _to stop trying to kill her though." Raoul narrowed his eyes at him.

Frowning at that, Erik paused. She deserved to die, but Raoul would never forgive him if he did kill her.

"Promise me," Raoul ordered, and Erik knew that if they hadn't been holding hands, Raoul would have crossed his arms and leveled him with that expectant gaze.

"I promise, my love," he replied somberly and squeezed Raoul's hand.

Raoul still eyed him, and Erik wondered if he should have pretended to think about it longer or to have been more reluctant. After a moment though, Raoul nodded, giving a returning squeeze of his hand. "Let's go back inside and forget all about her."

Erik followed him obediently, but his mind was already listing the ways he could harm Christine without technically breaking his promise to Raoul.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 12

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Like Erik's going to really stop trying to hurt her after what she's done.


	13. i wanna be a beast

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, abusive relationship, OC char deaths (not important ones is what that means), sex  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 2,735

A/N: Fanmix still available for download and if it isn't, just tell me and I'll re-upload it.  
Story note: Did someone ask for more angst? I don't think I did this chapter as well as I could have, but this is what came from those lyrics.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 13 – I wanna be a beast

o.o.o.o

_i wanna be a beast  
i wanna make you proud  
and play with your head_

Raoul stormed into the room, halfway out of his dusty jacket. Despite the vast disparity between the summer heat and the chill beneath the opera house, the offending article of clothing had gradually grown too stifling on his way down.

"I was gone two weeks!" Two weeks of a most frustrating nature traveling and trying to deal with his family. It had been his first visit since the rumours Christine had spread, and it was only the birth of his third nephew, first child for his youngest sister, that could convince him to go – and not the fact that all three of his siblings had basically threatened to disown him if he didn't witness this miraculous moment for which he was already one month late.

It couldn't have been more poorly timed as well. The Opera Populaire was doing splendidly well, which was mostly due to the still tenuous calm he'd managed to create. Unfortunately, that meant he had less time to be disposed to do what he wished, which honestly, was spending time with Erik. Thankfully, Erik hadn't complained about his continued absence because he would have been sorely tempted to ignore everyone else for Erik's sake if he had asked.

Leaving meant he now had a pile of work waiting for him, but he'd gone to see the child, who thankfully looked more like his sister than her husband. However, the newborn had taken second importance to their almost immediate interrogation of him. It wasn't as though he hadn't expected them to be curious. He had guessed at their ulterior motive, but he hadn't expected them to so thoroughly believe the rumours – enough so that his denial of them only made them more certain that he was in a romantic relationship with the opera ghost. To be honest, he hadn't actually outright denied them since he had no desire to lie to his family, but he did try to dissemble as best he could, admittedly slandering Christine's image in the process. It wasn't as though anything he said mattered since they simply ignored him. Their reactions ranged from anger, disappointment, and even grudging acceptance. They had well-practiced lectures, looks, warnings, and, it seemed, even more lectures that usually devolved into his siblings arguing amongst themselves. In the end, he had borne it all as best he could and somehow, had managed to convince them to not visit any time soon.

Admittedly, he had returned home to Paris with residual annoyance, but he had been mostly hopeful, even eager. Two weeks away from a man he'd seen nearly every day since the fight in the cemetery felt longer than he'd expected. To his chagrin though, he had arrived to find Christine being comforted by Madame Giry while police officers filed out of the Opera Populaire. His heart had stopped; it must have because even now his chest hurt, and his heart was still re-learning the proper tempo. For a long moment, he'd thought with startling certainty, _Erik is dead_.

"Two weeks." He was too focused on throwing his jacket on the floor to see the brief, poorly guarded joy in Erik's expression upon seeing him.

At the accusatory tone though, Erik nearly responded with the anger that seemed to always be close at hand. Instead, he schooled his features and carefully stood up to face him, taking the time to note the dust that he was tracking in. One would think the blond hadn't been inside the carriage on his trip home. He eyed the jacket on the floor and the brownish tinge to Raoul's usually immaculate clothing. His hair was disheveled despite being pulled into a ponytail.

Staring at him expectantly, Raoul threw his hands up in exasperation when he was met with continued silence. "You tried to kill Christine." He let out a sharp exhale, eyes begging Erik to deny it. Erik simply stared back and Raoul had to close his eyes to rein in the rising frustration. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? You _knew _I was coming today. Why would you…?"

Tight-lipped, Erik had to brace himself for the look of disappointment Raoul gave him. Still, it made him tense, his body jerking forward in an aborted motion. It was a testament to his self-control that he didn't respond.

"You _promised_."

And the hurt evident in his voice made Erik clench his hands into fists. He couldn't believe Raoul would take her side, but maybe that was exactly what Madame Giry had been trying to warn him of. Maybe she was right: it was only a matter of time. Nothing lasted forever after all, least of all love directed at a monster. She'd laid out a proper argument that he hadn't been able to contest even as he had vehemently denied it and physically removed her from his presence.

He had grown complacent. Raoul barely spent any time with him, no longer requesting that he spend more time on the estate. They rarely spoke, and the only time they truly spent time together was watching the operas, a time when neither of them touched nor spoke to each other. The blond was always _busy_, and Erik hadn't thought there would ever be a time when he missed Raoul disrupting his work. He missed that now, even missed his chastisements and nagging. And, if he thought of it, the amount of sexual relations they'd been having had been greatly reduced and replaced with sleep.

They'd been drifting apart, living nearly completely separate lives and he hadn't noticed until Madame Giry brought it up. One day, she'd noted, Raoul will simply stop caring, stop visiting. Erik was nothing more than a fading novelty, an exotic beast that was still too wild, too bothersome to love. But, she had pointed out, beasts could be tamed.

"It's not even _try_," Raoul continued, "You would have killed her this time if that officer hadn't…"

Erik snapped then, despite Madame Giry's advice sounding in his head. His voice was dangerously low as he closed the distance between them, moving to grab his wrist. "Don't lecture me, Raoul. She…"

Raoul knocked his hand away, not even flinching in the face of his wrath. He simply continued yelling. "What was it this time? She mentioned our past, hit a note incorrectly, or, my favorite," he said sarcastically, "she didn't scream in fright along with the other ballet dancers?"

Actually stunned into silence, Erik didn't even try to explain further that it had been a trap that he'd been fool enough to walk into. Christine had never been any real danger. Madame Giry was right though; his time had come. Breathing harshly, he simply shut down. The anger he felt was subsumed under a calm exterior he hadn't known he could project when he wanted so badly to simply shake Raoul and force him to listen at how wrong he was about it all.

"I don't want to hear your excuses." Raoul shook his head. "We made a deal with her. She stays out of our lives except for the lessons. That's it. I don't see her; you don't even really see her. I thought this truce worked for us all?"

The problem was Erik couldn't bear to listen to him any longer. If he stayed, he would surely do something he might actually regret. So, he turned and left without a word.

Raoul watched him go, knowing the argument was far from over. He briefly considered making chase, but that burst of anger had actually cost him. A little space wouldn't hurt.

Alone in Erik's home, a second home to him, he slumped to the floor just simply exhausted. Pulling his knees to his chest, he leant his head against them before letting out a frustrated yell. Rocking back and forth he tried to clear his mind. The look of utter terror on Christine's face came to mind, and he threaded his fingers through his hair, fisting it. This isn't what he'd wanted when he'd come home. He hadn't come straight to the opera house to find Erik had broken another promise to him. He hadn't come home to fight.

It took almost an hour before Raoul was able to sufficiently calm down and think. It would've taken less time if he hadn't been so annoyed to begin with, if he couldn't still feel the cold pit in his stomach at imagining Erik's death.

Now, all he could feel was sick at the thought of having been so cruel to Erik. He hadn't even allowed him to explain what had happened even though he _knew _Erik wouldn't have tried to hurt Christine without a good reason. If Madame Giry hadn't been there to confirm that she caught Erik in the process of hanging Christine before the officer had interrupted, he would not have believed Christine's story at all. It simply made no sense for Erik to have waited until the day of his scheduled return to try to kill her.

Loosing his hands from his hair, he pushed himself up to his feet. He stood there lost for a moment before deciding it impossible to find Erik if he did not wish to be found. Curling on the settee across the room, he sighed and waited for his return. He spent the time trying to figure out the balance between his apology and the need to be severe when it came to confronting Erik's attempt at her life despite the circumstances.

He should have taken Erik's advice and not leave in the first place. The older man had been certain something terrible was going to happen in his travel, but Raoul had disregarded such concerns since Erik's paranoia knew no bounds. He had been wrong anyway; the terrible event had happened on his return, not on the road.

o.o.o

Raoul started awake to find himself trapped between Erik and the settee. Erik must have been seated there for a while if the body heat between them were any indication, but it hadn't been Erik's weight against his midsection or the elbow resting on his hip that had woken him. In his mind's eye, he had seen Erik's body being dragged through the streets by laughing police officers. Christine pulled him along in order to be able to watch the spectacle as everyone cheered.

Steadying his breathing, Raoul levered himself up on one elbow. Erik simply turned to meet his eyes.

"I am sorry." Raoul took hold of Erik's arm.

Erik tried to pull away, but Raoul would not release him. Instead, he was almost pulled off the settee. Erik stopped and allowed Raoul to sit properly.

"There is nothing to apologize for." Erik stated, his voice controlled, "If anything, it is I who should apologize." Raoul immediately knew something was amiss. Erik never apologized. Never. Before he could say anything though, Erik gently transferred Raoul's hand from his arm to his own hand.

Standing, Erik stiffly responded, "The act has been committed, but I wish for us to be able to move on." He squeezed his hand before letting go, "I believe we will have to change our agreement with her however. I no longer wish to tutor her." He bowed slightly before going to his organ, a clear sign that he wished to be left alone.

Raoul wondered if Erik walking away from him was going to become a recurring action. The confusion, he would have been able to handle; it was the sudden unease he felt at this change of behaviour that arrested any action he would have taken. Erik was volatile enough to make him pause even though he wanted to tell Erik he refused to accept that idea. He did not want to simply move on. He wanted to talk about this, to make sure Erik accepted his apology. However, he didn't want to exacerbate the situation further, which acting prematurely would do. So, the only thing he could do was bide his time.

Except, Erik's behaviour did not return to normal, not after a few days, not after a few weeks. Raoul was left floundering in this new dynamic between them. It wasn't as though he missed the rather unconventional means Erik used to keep the occupants of the Opera Populaire in line, but it was troubling to note that the opera was suffering from Erik's change as well. He did not miss falling scenery, missing props, broken seats, or torn clothing. He simply missed Erik, blunt, honest, acerbic Erik. He never thought he would see the day when Erik was cautious, almost soft. It was simply wrong, and he did not think Erik was very happy either, despite what the other man said. In fact, Raoul was certain he was miserable.

The source of this sudden change had to be his outburst, but every time he tried to bring it up, Erik would simply change the subject or ignore him. So, he knew his only chance was to corner Erik so that he couldn't evade him.

With Erik so compliant, it wasn't any more difficult than sending a note to Erik to meet him in the managers' office. Raoul knew every entrance and exit, and luckily, he also managed to acquire all the copies of the key to the room. There would be nowhere for Erik to run.

As the older man entered the room, Raoul immediately locked the door behind him and tucked the key in his pocket.

"Raoul?" Erik only looked mildly worried. He had known this was going to happen. In fact, he'd willingly come simply because he hadn't known how much longer he could 'behave.'

"What's going on?" For the past week, Raoul had been waiting for something terrible to happen. He expected this to be the calm before the storm, and with Erik, it was going to be something life altering.

When Erik simply feigned boredom and looked away, Raoul elucidated. "This behaviour, this everything. What is wrong, Erik?"

There was a pregnant pause where neither moved, barely breathed. Erik considered his options. This plan of Madame Giry's was obviously not working as well as she'd expected. The woman seemed rather pleased with herself, but Raoul had only grown more worried with each passing day.

"I'm a monster not much more than a beast," Erik commented, still speaking towards the wall, "This is all I can do."

Raoul moved forward, but when that didn't garner Erik's attention, he moved to stand in his line of sight. Only then was he able to make Erik meet his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Seemingly on tangent, Erik noted, "Madame Giry informed me faith in one's partner is most crucial in any relationship. Faith in their fidelity, in their continued affection, and in their word."

Raoul swallowed with some difficulty, already knowing what he was referring to. So, it _was_ his fault. "Erik, please forgive me. I…" He was going to give excuses, but stopped himself. "_Please_ forgive me. I should have listened to what you had to say. I am the one who should be on their best behaviour."

"No. It is I," Erik assured, looking at a spot over Raoul's shoulder. On the other hand, this plan had done exactly what he'd wanted. He had garnered Raoul's attention.

"Why? Erik, please look at me."

Slowly, Erik did so. He raised his chin in defiance to his own words. "I'm giving you a reason to believe in me first."

Raoul actually flinched as though he'd been physically struck. He couldn't help himself then. He fisted the material of Erik's coat, needing to ensure that Erik was listening to every word he said. "I don't want you to change like this, Erik. I've _missed_ you. I believe in you, love you as you are, for now and for forever."

Erik could see how earnest Raoul was being and relaxed a fraction. "I love you as well, Raoul."

He decided then that Madame Giry had only been partially right. Changing his behaviour was only a temporary solution that he could do without. Raoul could still very well leave him – surely the boy believed otherwise, but Erik would not take the chance. He would have to find another way to secure Raoul to him.

Glancing at the penitent blond who so easily cared for him, he thought to himself, "Do not leave me. This beast will certainly die without you."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 13

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Stupid angst. Why angst why? It ended rather… foreboding-ly. D:


	14. i wanna take you out

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 1,538

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs).  
Story note: Fluff! I need it after that last chapter.

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 14 – I wanna take you out

o.o.o.o

_i wanna take you out  
make you feel adored  
buy you everything_

Raoul arrived exactly fifteen minutes before the performance that evening. Through much trial and error, he had found that it was enough time to catch Erik before he left so that they could walk to Box 5 together and still have a few minutes to spare to converse.

Erik sat in his usual spot in front of his organ, furiously writing on the sheets before him. Before Raoul could even announce his presence, he motioned distractedly towards the settee across the room. "Wear it," he ordered offhandedly.

Raoul looked across the room to where Erik was pointing. He could make out a suit hanging over the seat. Glancing down at his own clothes, he smoothed down non-existent wrinkles. "What's wrong with my current clothes?"

Erik glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

Raoul pretended to be affronted, but he couldn't hide his grin.

"Just wear the clothes." Erik stood up and disappeared further into his home, apparently certain that he would follow his orders.

Instead of being insulted, Raoul simply laughed and headed off towards his new wardrobe, undressing along the way so that they wouldn't be much delayed. Erik always managed to surprise him. He had long since stopped questioning the small things that made up his quirks. Picking up the suit, Raoul fingered the material and marveled at it, expensive. The cut was even in the latest fashion. He amended his opinion to very expensive. He glanced at the direction Erik had gone before dressing.

When Erik returned, Raoul was standing in front of a mirror, twisting left and right observing how well the suit fit. "Where did you get this?" Raoul resettled the coat on his shoulders simply for the feel of it. He had to admit, it was considerably nicer than the one he'd been wearing.

Once again, he was waved off with a blithe, "It was lying about."

Raoul nearly scoffed. The suit fit perfectly. He briefly wondered how Erik had known his dimensions; more importantly, he wanted to know how Erik knew his preference was to dress right. He shook his head to clear that line of thinking from his mind. It was best not to know at times. Grinning, albeit slightly in confusion, Raoul let the comment go.

"We should leave soon." He started walking towards the passageway, but Erik stood in his way. "Uh?"

Erik actually appeared to hesitate for a moment before taking his hand and dragging him off. And it was 'dragging' him for a few moments because Raoul had been too shocked to realize they'd started moving. He quickly came to his senses though and began to keep pace before Erik decided to let go of his hand.

As per normal, the only thing normal so far actually, they walked in silence. It was dangerous to be too loud in these passageways. Sound carried quite easily and if anyone heard them, they would certainly be disturbed during the opera by the managers warning him about guests complaining about the opera ghost threatening them or something in a similar vein. So, in the silence, Raoul reviewed today's date. It was not their anniversary nor was it a holiday. Erik hadn't even done anything to warrant his anger… unless it was something he had yet to discover. However, he doubted that was the case. He had a feeling he knew why Erik was acting as such.

Entering Box 5 first, Raoul amusedly glanced at Erik, who held the curtain back for him, one arm tucked behind his back and head slightly bowed. It was all very gentlemanly, and though it was as charming as it was entertaining, Raoul was about to tell Erik that all this fanfare was unnecessary. The words died in his throat though when through the darkness of the box, he saw a bouquet of roses waiting for him on his seat. His cheeks were beginning to hurt from the wide smile on his face. Picking them up, he allowed his eyes to close in pleasure as he breathed in the heady fragrance.

"Erik, this –"

His attention was once again diverted, this time to the stage as the curtains were drawn. Cursing silently to himself, he held his tongue and quickly took his seat. Knowing Erik, he wouldn't appreciate missing the overture, and considering the trouble he went to for this evening, Raoul wanted to reciprocate in some manner, no matter how small. He tried to catch Erik's eye when he moved in front of him to take his seat, but Erik was cast into shadow, his gaze already fixed on the stage.

Placing the flowers on the floor beside him, Raoul couldn't help but pout since he knew he would have to wait for the intermission between the acts before he could speak. Despite the number of times Erik had already seen an opera, he watched it as though it were the first time and absolutely hated being disturbed. Sitting beside him was as good as watching it alone at times, and Raoul always secretly thought Erik was simply looking for new ways to be disappointed with the singers and dancers in each performance. The opera ghost accepted nothing below perfection after all.

Raoul started when he felt Erik place his hand atop his own on the armrest. Staring at their hands, then at Erik, who was watching the stage as though this were normal, Raoul tried not to gape too much. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying something before forcing himself to look towards the stage. He didn't even dare move, lest he distract Erik from the opera. He tried his hardest to focus on the performance, but the feel of Erik's hand erased every other stimulus, so that even though his eyes were fixed on the stage, all he could think of was Erik's hand on his.

It was the longest first act Raoul had ever experienced, and when it was over, he nearly breathed a sigh of relief. The first thing he did was turn his hand palm upwards so that he could entwine their fingers, an act he'd been thinking of since the moment Erik had placed his hand there. It was only then that Erik turned to look at him.

Raoul was a little mad at him. Surely, the older man knew exactly what he was doing to him, and trying to pretend that this was not out of the ordinary unfortunately, made it that much more endearing. Schooling his features, Raoul commented, "That was pleasant." He refused to let his eyes stray to their hands. If Erik was going to pretend this was like every other night, then he would not be the one to ruin the illusion.

"It was passable." Erik scowled, and Raoul tried not to laugh. The severity of that scowl told him no one would be sleeping peacefully tonight, except for them of course. Raoul amended that thought, maybe not even them. Erik quickly added, making it sound like an afterthought, "Enjoyable, if only for the company."

Raoul allowed himself to smile then, gazing at him fondly for a moment longer. There were times when Erik was overtly attentive and affectionate, but those times were unsurprisingly rare. It wasn't as though he did not reciprocate when Raoul initiated the contact; it was just the opposite. Raoul would receive multiple times over what he gave during those moments. However, only when there was a threat to the status quo did Erik ever truly act on his own and even then it was usually so extreme to be questionable as affection. If it weren't for the pointed descriptions and exclamations of Christine boasting of her rather demonstrative suitor yesterday, Erik would have never gone through so much effort tonight. It was possibly the only time since Erik and his relationship began that Christine had done something that he had benefited from.

Making up his mind, Raoul kept to the shadows as he stood up and moved in front of Erik's seat. They were forced to adjust how they were holding hands, but it wasn't very difficult to accommodate this new position. Erik looked up at him in poorly concealed anticipation, lifting his chin in silent invitation. Placing his other hand on the armrest, Raoul leaned down and kissed him soundly, Erik allowing him to take the lead at least this time.

Pulling back only slightly, he whispered, "Thank you for the clothes."

Erik attempted to state matter-of-factly, "I prefer seeing you in things I've bought for you." It came out breathy.

Raoul nodded, teasing him by just barely brushing their lips together. "I might have to agree." He pressed their lips together, not so much in a kiss as in a caress, in a promise. When the orchestra began playing though, he reluctantly pulled away with a sigh. He didn't get very far before Erik grabbed and tugged him onto his lap. Raoul stifled a laugh against him as he adjusted himself to find a more comfortable position. He looped an arm around Erik's shoulder before leaning in again for another quick kiss.

"I rather prefer anything that has to do with you," Raoul admitted.

Erik hmm'd his agreement into their next kiss.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 14

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: awww, fluff. Why is it always extremes with me? And if you failed to notice, a little of my tailor!kink snuck into this chapter. Honestly, ideky knowing if someone dresses right or left is a turn on to start with. It just is. And you do have to wonder exactly how Erik took the time to notice such a thing.


	15. i wanna hurt you bad

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: A songfic chronicling Erik and Raoul's relationship. Angst.  
Warning(s): slash, graphic gore, abuse  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Word Count: 2,109

A/N: Fanmix still available for download (check out my profile or blogs).  
Story note: I completely blame the lyrics for how this chapter turned out. Angst with a familiar idea. Oh, and for those faint hearted, do not read. I outdid myself in unnecessary descriptions. D: Final chapter (why must it end like this? Because the song ended).

o.o.o.o

Gallery Piece  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 15 – I wanna hurt you bad

o.o.o.o

_i wanna hurt you bad  
make you paranoid  
and say the sweetest things_

His chains rattled as another shiver wracked his body. He feared for his well-being as the clanking echoed, but when nothing happened, he was mostly just reminded of how hopeless his current situation was – as though he needed to be reminded. He hated the way the metal grated against stone, chinked against metal, and ground against bones. How long had he been here to have formed such a detailed impression? To have formed such a strong opinion against chains? He wasn't certain. Too long. The hours dragged on in a state of perpetual fear.

He was going to die here.

Stifling the whimpers that threatened to come out when the shackles chafed his wrists and ankles had become second nature now. The pain often spiked despite its constancy. Seated on the stone ground, his whole body had suffered enough that he almost wished he could simply fall unconscious. His ankles were chained to some point in front of him, close enough that he had to bend his knees but far enough that he couldn't stand, the angle too awkward to keep his balance. His hands were chained above his head, so high that his only option was to sit up straight and even then it was a stretch. The shackles on his wrists were the only things keeping him upright; he would've toppled over long ago from fatigue. His shoulders ached, a blaze of pain that ran from neck to chest and back. In the beginning, he had tried to relieve the pain by planting his feet and bracing himself against the wall, but he couldn't maintain that position for any long duration of time.

He turned his head left and right, blind because of a heavy cloth that had been wrapped around his head from the first moment he'd been taken. Habit made him turn even when he only had his ears to tell him if someone approached. The reason he couldn't allow himself to rest for very long was coming. The sound of tiny claws clicking on the damp, cold stone was familiar, heralding his only consistent company these past few hours, or was it days? The rats.

They hadn't bothered him in the beginning, not when his captor had been present and not when he'd had enough fight to jerk and buck them off him, but they were growing bolder. From what he could tell, his captor had left him alone, but even alone, Raoul refused to let the dirty monsters take advantage of him. He'd ignored the nausea the first time he'd forcefully driven his knees to the ground and killed at least one rat, injuring many others. They'd stayed away for a while after that, but he'd been forced to prove himself several times over already, and each time, he rose to the occasion.

And now, it was about time. They were going to test him again, and they knew he couldn't kill them all. If only they knew that he didn't think he could stand to kill another one. The bodies of their dead comrades were littered around him, pressing against his legs. The tears they'd made in his trousers trying to get to flesh only made it easier for him to feel their fur, made it easier for the blood to reach skin.

They were eventually going to eat him alive.

Fisting his hands, he grit his teeth to bear against the pain as he jerked suddenly, ignoring the shift of rat carcasses around him. A warning, one he hoped would be enough for now. Straining his ears, he heard them scurry away again. He was safe for another hour, probably less. But the motion had cost him; he slumped, letting the chains hold him up. He swept his left knee out to clear some space and dry heaved when he heard a squelch. He hadn't a meal to throw up thankfully.

How many days ago had he been chained here? Perpetually in darkness, there was nothing to keep count of the passage of time but the sound of rats scurrying and running water. In the beginning, he'd been rather hopeful because sewers meant that he had to be in the city still. It would be easier to find him. If anyone was even looking for him.

He was supposed to be out of Paris for a week. Erik had surprisingly taken it well, and by well, he meant that they kept to their usual arguments about travelling. He was always quite insistent that Raoul should not travel so much when he had everything he needed in Paris. Pressing his face against his arm, Raoul nearly sobbed just remembering how easy it had been to kiss him then, calling him smug. Erik wouldn't even be looking for him despite what his dreams showed him.

It had all happened so quickly. Raoul didn't know who had taken him. One moment he'd been sitting in his carriage. The next, someone had stopped them before knocking the coachman and him unconscious. He had long since realized that the coachman might be his only hope. He could've escaped or told someone. Unless his captor had killed him and disposed of the body.

Raoul let out a sob and tensed in fear. He was going to die here alone and Erik would never know, would never find him.

When he'd woken that first time, the chains were already firmly attached to him and the wall. He'd yelled in hopes that someone would hear him. Someone did hear. His captor had struck him hard enough to jerk him against the binds, making him wonder if he'd dislocated his shoulder. He hadn't even realized that someone had been there.

The man said nothing even when Raoul threatened, begged, cajoled. He was only struck time and again. It felt like days of such torture, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours. Though persistent, Raoul did eventually learn. A throbbing head, bruised if not broken ribs, a missing tooth, and the blood oozing from that gaping hole was a lesson well learned, and he realized that his captor either already knew enough about him in order to secure a ransom or he simply wanted Raoul dead. As more time passed, he was becoming certain that he'd been taken for the latter reason.

He couldn't have been here that long though. Three to four days at most. Lifetimes to him. When he wasn't thinking about his bruises, he was thinking about water and food. Though he could barely breathe for want of water, the stomach cramps were the worst – the hunger that ate away within him spread, the muscles in his limbs spasming, tightening so much he thought they would snap right off the bone.

But, the fact that he could still think at all, albeit a little muddled, meant that he could stave off death for at least a couple more days. He hoped. He'd lost consciousness so many times already, and each time he'd woken he hadn't been able to tell if only a minute or an hour had passed. It couldn't have been very long because it felt as though he hadn't slept at all. All he knew was that whenever he woke and dared to yell for help, his captor had been quick to silence him with a well-placed strike to his face. The slightest sound was enough to warrant a strike, and he wasn't willing to be punished for some accidental noise. He tried to remain as quiet as possible, wondering if the man ever left because Raoul could never hear his approach or his departure.

It had disturbed him to think that he would have an audience for his death. However, that thought was somehow better than dying alone, chained to the wall with only rats to witness it as they eagerly awaited the moment.

As his stomach continued to eat itself, the silence prevailed. Any sound made him twitch, his head automatically turning to that direction. It was mostly water and echoes. For a while now, maybe a day or two, his captor hadn't returned – or perhaps he was simply amused at Raoul's battle against the rats. He hadn't tried to call for help though, mostly because if he could hear nothing in this silence, he could not conceive how anyone would be able to hear him. His best hope was to save his energy, hear someone's approach before calling for help. He simply did not know how well used these tunnels were.

Dying in his own refuse had not been the way he'd imagined the end of his life. Hanging his head, he was unable to even feel shame for that. He was too tired, tired and disheartened. Every thought came to the same conclusion. No matter what he tried to do, it proved fruitless. No matter how hopeful he tried to stay, there was no reason to hope.

His eyebrows furrowed when he heard an unfamiliar sound.

Footsteps. Honest to goodness human footsteps approached and despite his initial plan, he couldn't seem to find his voice, his body already anticipating the strike that would fall upon him. Fear kept him from both calling for help and begging for his life. He held his breath in anticipation. When a hand touched his face, Raoul flinched, unable to suppress a whimper. He tensed, cursing himself for his weakness. Instead of another blow though, his blindfold fell to the ground, and he heard his name called.

He let out another sob when he recognized the voice. Blinking rapidly, Raoul tried to will himself to see and through the blurred haze of his eyes trying to focus through the darkness, sure enough, Erik was crouched in front of him, concern so plain to see.

Using his sleeve to wipe Raoul's face, Erik tried to clean the grime away so that he could see the damage done. Closing his eyes, Raoul leaned into the touch and let out a breathy sob again when he felt Erik's hands tremble, trying so hard to be gentle with him. He wanted to tell Erik to press harder because he was here. Erik was somehow here.

But those hands disappeared. At his whimper, Erik explained, "I'm going to remove these chains."

Raoul didn't question how, just bemoaned the loss of Erik's touch as he moved to take the shackles from his ankles.

"Erik," he murmured, his mouth hurting. His lips were cracked, dried blood caked on them as well as on his cheek. There was heavy bruising on his jaw and the left side of his face. His nose had somehow managed to stay unbroken, but that meant very little to Raoul. "How?" He croaked.

Seeing the dead rats around him, Erik was quick to push them away. "I've been looking for you for almost two days." Erik flung the ankle chains behind him. It clanked loudly, echoing in the tunnels. He stroked Raoul's neck briefly in apology when the younger man flinched at the sound. "The man was stupid enough to gloat about capturing you." He moved up to remove the shackles on Raoul's wrists. "He's not alive to be so stupid again."

Once his arms were free, they dropped and Raoul nearly screamed in pain. All he could manage was a groan. Still, he fought through the pain to try and hold onto Erik, body surging forward. It wasn't enough to see him, not when it was dark enough that he couldn't quite see his face. He needed to feel the solid body under his fingers, in his embrace. Those dreams of Erik had been closer to hallucinations, and several times already, he'd woken to rats climbing on him when he'd been certain Erik had already saved him. He'd felt real in the dreams too.

"Don't leave me," Raoul cried, "Please don't leave me."

"Raoul," Erik coaxed, kissing his temple, his hair, anywhere he could reach, holding Raoul possessively against him. "Ask it of me and I will. I will never leave you."

Raoul nodded, crying too hard to truly respond.

"Shh," Erik coaxed, rubbing circles on Raoul's back. "I'll always come for you, always find you. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." Raoul hiccupped. Erik continued murmuring, "It was terrible. I know. It's over though. It's finally over and everything will be fine now. I promise."

As Raoul slumped against him, Erik knew he'd never be able to explain just how much this experience had been harder on him than it had been for Raoul. Watching his beloved suffer so had nearly broken him, but they were stronger for it now. Stronger and together.

_i wanna help you grow  
and for eternity  
i wanna be your what's happening  
what's happening_

o.o.o.o

End chapter 15

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Wow. Talk about being mean to Raoul. The POV switches only at the end because that's when Raoul finally passes out, and yes, the idea's from Glimpses. I think it's number #47, but it definitely wasn't that dark when I first thought of it.

And, yes, though vague, Erik is the one who did this to Raoul (although I give you leave to deny it. That's why I left it vague; part of me denies it, too). The ending of chapter 13 led to this, Erik's _brilliant_ plan (complete sarcasm) to keep Raoul with him. What's the point of fluff if Erik goes around doing things like this?


End file.
